


The Gentleman and the Ape Man

by orphan_account



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Ducbon, Fingering, Frottage, Happy Ending, M/M, and then in the second chapter there's, attempt of noncon oral sex not done by Chris or Tom though, handjob, noncon, tarzan au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarzan AU<br/>Tom is a naturalist just out of Cambridge. He, his professor mother, and an over protective bodyguard go on a trip to west Africa to search for a rare breed of apes and find something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note: If you don’t like it, please blame marty-mc. This whole mess was inspired by this drawing. http://marty-mc.tumblr.com/post/77499360709/for-daria-the-tarzan-hiddlesworth-au-we-both
> 
> Please don’t think too hard about how he manages to keep his hair/beard somewhat short/historical accuracy/lack of britishisms…weird time lapses...or Chris conveniently showing up to save Tom. I tried to base the apes and location off the book, but the book’s also inaccurate so… roll with it.
> 
> Sorry for grammar, spelling, and other errors :(
> 
> Optional headcanons:  
> Marty-mc linked me to an article about sexuaity in the 18th century and so I used the idea that masturbation was thought to cause illness. It’s not clearly mentioned, but hinted at.  
> I watched Disney’s Tarzan before writing, and it loosely follows it.  
> I was thinking about making his mother Tilda Swinton (because she’s technically old enough) but I thought Rachel Weisz would be better because of her Evie character from the Mummy. (pretend she’s her current age, and that Tom is 23, and she had him at 20)  
> Clayton is Cumberbatch with his War horse moustache and a bit more muscle.  
> Marty-mc mentioned wanting Tom having never kissed/fapped. I’ll leave it ambiguous if he has or not fapped. but my headcanon is that he has, but he’s deeply ashamed and doesn’t feel the need that often. I’m making him an asexual character but with single target attraction to Chris.  
> His mom gives zero fucks that her son might want to be with a dude het met in the jungle. I don’t care if it makes no sense.

 

 

Tom had promised Mr. Cumberbatch, their guard while on the expedition, that he would stay in camp while he and Tom’s mother looked for water. Tom had told them, and at the time meant it, that he was content to simply document the plants surrounding their camp. But now he was growing too excited. He wanted to take as much in as possible. There was bound to be something more exciting out there than plants.

Taking only his sketchbook and the new pencils that Mr. Cumberbatch had given him as a gift, he set off into the thickening trees while telling himself that he would only go a short distance, that he would stop as soon as he saw something truly interesting. His secret hope was to find one of the rare, if not entirely rumored, Mangani apes. It would make his mother so proud.

He had not gone far, or seemingly far, when he stumbled upon a beautiful flower. He knelt down on a large tree root as he sketched it. He was so lost in thought, trying to guess what family the plant came from, that it took him quite a while to hear the soft cries of some animal. He looked over his shoulder and saw something dragging through the bushes. Tom was too enthusiastic to be cautious. He quietly and slowly approached the bush and pushed back a large heavy leaf to reveal what looked like a very small brown bear. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he recognized that it had been hurt. Its leg was bleeding badly and twisted. He reached out a hand to do something when he heard a growl. He spun around and dropped his notebook. A large adult spotted hyena approach from the foliage. As slowly as possible, Tom backed away from the injured pup. “Ah, so that’s what it was, a baby hyena. Its coloring was different.” He thought before his back hit a tree. The mother was still growing and encroaching on him. He made a tiny movement to step around the tree, only to trip on a root.

As Tom began to fall, and the hyena pounced, he was sure this was the end of him. He wished he’d gotten a chance to find the Mangani apes, or at least say goodbye to his mother. But it had been a pretty good life. No complaints. But before he met the ground, something pulled him swiftly upward by the back of his pants. It lifted him ten feet from the ground, but the mother hyena had latched onto his shoe.

Sense suddenly flooded back into Tom. A hyena was dangling from his leg, and something had pulled him half way up a tree. He shook his foot frantically while unconsciously yelling.

“Get off me. Off!” His shoe loosened and the hyena fell back to the ground with it. It watched him, still growling. Tom’s head shot upward. He couldn’t properly see what had him. At first he had felt safe, but what if something worse had gotten him. What could possibly lift a man like that? His heart beat with excitement. Was it an ape? Had one of the Mangani rescued him? Whatever it was moved through the tree and let him dangle as it walked along the branch onto another tree.

“Um, hello?” Tom said, feeling somewhat foolish. Obviously whatever animal this was couldn’t understand him, but maybe it would react to his sounds, “thank you for saving me but-”

In a swift motion, Tom was pulled, if not flung, quickly upward and then placed down on a slighly higher branch. The animal that manouvered him so easily then pulled itself up and crouched across from him.

Tom nearly fell from the tree when he saw what sat before him.

“Why, you’re not ape! You’re a man!” Tom blurted loudly. He was a little disappointed that his savior hadn’t been the creature his mother studied for so long, but it was probably for the best. Being in the company of a man was probably safer than an ape.

The man looked directly into Tom’s eyes. It was only for a moment, but Tom felt discomfort. He couldn’t explain it, as it lasted for a brief moment. The man broke the glance to begin barking at the hyena. Tom observed him as he did so.

The man was blond and very large. His muscles were that of some kind of laborer. His face scruffy and unshaved, but like his hair, still somewhat short. Tom tried to distract himself from the man’s nakedness by guessing what kind of profession the man had that would put him this far away from civilization. “Why is he naked?” Tom couldn’t help but ogle him. Maybe he was also a naturalist, trying to live out some kind of Rousseauian theory. “So very little fabric is covering his pelvis.”

Tom’s eyes snapped up to see that the man was observing him as well. The intensity of the man’s blue eyed stare as it darted from his body to his face made Tom nervous.

“Thomas Hiddleston. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He decided to break the awkwardness with formality but the man wasn’t having it. He kept a steady gaze on Tom’s face and crept slowly along the branch, shortening the distance between them. Tom scooted away until his back hit the tree’s trunk, “Erm, and… what is your name?” His and was still out, but it had softened.

The man was now observing Tom’s feet. He first picked up the still booted foot and dropped it.

“Excuse me?”

The man ignored him before picking up his bare foot. He ran the rough pad of his thumb against Tom’s soft arch, causing him to squirm and grip the branch for support. The man seemed to find some delight in this reaction and carefully watched Tom’s face before continuing with his soft pets.

“Stop that!” Tom tried to yell, but it came out mostly as a laugh. Tom couldn’t help but close his eyes as the man’s tickling continued. He then felt the man’s other hand cup his face, and brush his cheek with his thumb. He released Tom’s foot and brought his other hand up to hold Tom’s head as well.

Tom opened his eyes to find the man’s face but inches away from his own. One hand ran through his curls while the thumb of his other hand explored Tom’s jaw and neck.

Tom didn’t know what was coming over him, but his whole body seemed to go hot. He was sure that he was flushing now. The man drew even closer and before Tom knew it, he was shoving the man away.

The man backed off a little, taking his hands away from Tom’s face. He tightly took Tom’s hands into his own and observed them. This was a relief to Tom who now had slightly more room to think. What was happening to him? Who was this man, and why was he doing this? Why was his body responding in this way? He’d never felt this before.

“C-can you really not understand me?” To his relief, Tom could feel the flush leaving his face.

The man said nothing. He was now observing Tom’s hand as if he’d never seen one before. Between his tanned and calloused fingers he picked up Tom’s index finger. Carefully, he moved it around with light bends, occasionally checking Tom’s face, perhaps for a reaction. He pressed both their palms and fingers together so they aligned. The expression of the man was one that Tom knew. Recognition. He looked back up at Tom with some kind of unexplainable excitement before picking Tom up and dropping him into his lap.

“Wha-” Tom nearly screamed. The man put his hand upon Tom’s chest, “I-is this necessary.” He looked away to hide his blushing face. Tom was trying hard not to think about the man’s loincloth that was now directly in front of...

The man removed his hand before pressing his blond head against Tom’s breast, directly over his heart. He pulled back with a smile and nodded before drawing one of Tom’s hands onto his own bare chest. Tom could feel his heartbeat. It felt as quick and hard as his did as he dragged his soft fingers over the man’s hard chest. A shiver of excitement, and danger, ran through his spine.

“What is happening to me?” He thought with shame. He could feel his body stirring in ways he refused to acknowledge. “I-I-I” Tom stammered as the man took Tom’s chin between his fingers and stared, his blue eyes steady on Tom’s lips. It was almost as if the man was planning to… For a single unforgivable moment, Tom’s eyes fluttered shut.

The sound of a single gunshot rang. Tom’s eyes snapped open. What had he been thinking?

The man flinched and leaned away. Tom took this opportunity to spring out of his lap and began descending the tree.

“I’m um…” He wasn’t sure if there was any point in explaining it to him, “I’m staying over there… where the…” he made a gunshot noise which the man mimicked, “That’s right… I’m staying near there.” He hopped down from a low branch, unsure why he felt the need to tell the man where he was camping. The man jumped down and landed hard next to him. Tom tried to walk away but the man took Tom’s hand and pressed it into his still intimidatingly bare chest, “Ch...ris...” He said slowly. The man’s height was not that much more than Tom’s but the broadness of his shoulders gave the illusion that he towered over Tom.

“Chri-oh Chris. Your name is Chris!” Tom was astounded, the man could talk! He had a name, even. Maybe there were others.

The man put his hand on Tom’s chest and tilted his head to the side.

“Oh, I’m Thomas. Thomas.” He nodded.

“Thomas.” The man repeated. Tom shiverd. The man’s hand still on his chest. He needed to leave, “Sorry. I can’t… I need to go.” He pulled away and ran back to camp as soon as possible. Part of him hoped he would never see the man again. The way he felt around him made him uncomfortable. But at the same time, the thought of never seeing Chris again sent physical pain to his body.

***

“I told you to stay put!” Mr. Cumberbatch yelled as Tom emerged from the bushes. He was pulling his shoe back on.

“Sorry, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

“I told you to call me Ben.” Mr. Cumberbatch mumbled but Tom was already speaking quickly to his mother.

“Mummy! I must tell you, I went out in the forest to see if I could find anything interesting and I was sketching this plant and then I heard a noise and before I knew it a mother hyena was attacking me, but then something pulled me up into a tree, and it was a great large blond man who didn’t speak a word of english, save his name!”

“Was he Dutch then?” His mother nodded through the story and seemed very interested. Mr. Cumberbatch meanwhile, was rolling his eyes. He seemed to think that Tom and his mother had a knack for exaggeration.

“No. I don’t know what he was. He wasn’t wearing very much clothes.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I almost think he couldn’t quite be all human.”

“Perhaps we’ve discovered the missing link?” She grabbed his hands excitedly and they danced for a moment.

“Don’t get too worked up, it’s probably just a schoolboy fantasy he’s conjured up. Or he’s caught some kind of forest madness…”

“I’m not making it up.” Tom scowled and Mr. Cumberbatch grinned. He liked to get Tom worked up. “The man is real. His name is Chris.”

“What did he look like, then?” His mother urged.

Tom wanted to draw him but realized, “Oh no, I dropped my sketchbook.”

“The pencils I got you, too, then?” Mr. Cumberbatch said in an unsurprised voice.

Tom was not sure how he felt about Mr. Cumberbatch. Most of the time, he was making fun of Tom, or Tom’s mother. Other days he was doing things like buying him pencils Tom had only just wished for in his journal.

“Er, yes. I suppose they’re still there, I can get them later.”

“Here, darling.” His mother handed him some paper and charcoal and Tom began to draw while explaining how the man stood and acted. He left out some of the more intimate moments. A light flush touched his cheeks.

“He looks rather handsome for the missing link.” Mr. Cumberbatch snorted.

“He had the most intense stare… like nothing I’d ever seen…” Tom drew the eyes and remembered them.

“Oh, dear. You almost look to be in love. Should I leave you with the drawing, then?” His mother teased and he grew dark red.

“What a bizarre fantasy for a boy like you to come up with.” Mr. Cumberbatch scoffed.

“He’s real! I swear!”

****

Despite Tom’s attempts, Mr. Cumberbatch seemed unconvinced by any of Tom’s words, but he didn’t seem annoyed when Tom insisted on following him around all evening, trying to prove it. Tom was beginning to think that he should stop following Mr. Cumberbatch around like a puppy if there was no way he was to be convinced. That was until Chris appeared at their camp the next morning, but even then, it seemed as though Mr. Cumberbatch couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Chris!” Tom said with a raw excitement. He knew he shouldn’t be alone with the man. He wished that his mother, or even Mr. Cumberbatch were there. At least then he could prove it.

Chris held out Tom’s sketchbook and pencils.

“You brought them! Oh, thank you!” Tom took them happily, some of his fear flood from him. Chris was only there to return his things. But when he turned to put the notebook the card table, Chris’s hands wrapped around his waist. His fingers fiddling with Tom’s dress shirt.

“What are you doing?” He smiled. He interpreted this gesture to be playful.  

Chris tugged at his tucked in shirt, examining it as he pulled it out completely in small increments.

Tom’s breath became shallow. The man was simply observing him, but the intimacy of the closeness was getting to him. His hands, almost if without his meaning to, drifted up and touched Chris’s stomach. Chris didn’t seem to mind or notice, as he was now fiddling with the buttons of the shirt. He accidentally popped one off when he tugged at it too hard. He pressed it into Tom’s palm with a smile. Tom couldn’t help but return it, which seemed to please Chris further. Chris’s hands found their way to the tops of Tom’s bare hips. Tom wiggled at first, but submitted to his touch.

Tom realized this had to stop. The man was clearly just curious about their cultural differences. That was it. Tom needed to stop getting so… flustered. He took his hands off Chris and determined that that was that. He would only observe him scientifically.

“Oh, is this your friend?” His mother said as she and Mr. Cumberbatch appeared with water.

Tom jumped away from Chris and stammered an introduction.

His mother was very pleased when Chris began smelling her hands. Mr. Cumberbatch had an expression like he’d just smelled something awful.

“Charming.” He said bitterly.

“I told you he was real!” Tom beamed.

“Yes. He seems to be all you mentioned and more.” He said darkly as Chris began fiddling with the waist of Tom’s pants. Tom swatted him away with embarrassment. Mr. Cumberbatch certainly didn’t approve of this sort of behavior.

****

Chris followed Tom around camp all day. His mother found it quite charming and kept noting, “I think you’ve made a friend, Thomas.” and “He seems so taken with you!” and “I guess we’ll have to take him home to live with us.”

Mr. Cumberbatch shot him dark looks while cleaning his rifle.

Tom, who had only that morning renewed his promise to stay away from Chris, in order to stop this developing feeling, was having a hard time of it.

Chris had no sense of personal space and was very taken with Tom. He followed Tom into his tent when he went to change shirts (Mr. Cumberbatch quickly offered to hold him outside, but Tom didn’t want to cause trouble, or make it seem like a big deal, so he allowed Chris to follow him in) he mimicked Tom’s behaviors, he would come up behind Tom so their bodies were flush and then smell his hair and neck. Tom was certain he would lose it if this continued. How was he supposed to stop the feeling that occurred when the man touched him if the man wouldn’t stop touching him? It was madness.

Tom tried to distract Chris as best as possible. He tried to teach him words such as “book” and “water.” He caught on fairly quickly, but it was mostly all memorization. Chris would need more time to develop a sense of grammar. He showed Chris many pictures of many things. Chris seemed to like that best. Children with their parents, flowers, houses, lovers, horses. But these things could only hold his attention for so long before he was pulling Tom into his lap to look at the picture book with him.

Tom was coming apart at the seams when he had to tuck his shirt in again. (Chris had pulled it out again to explore the skin of Tom’s back when he’d finished with the book.) The sun was beginning to set and he’d spent all day trying to keep it together. He felt like this went on any longer and he was going to cry. Tom had yelled at Chris to stop. Chris seemed to understand, as he frowned and pouted when Tom would pull away but it wouldn’t be long before he was happy with Tom in his arms once again.

Luckly, Chris finally put his hand on Tom’s shoulder, nuzzled Tom’s neck with his nose, looked him deeply in the eyes, and walked back into the forest.

Tom gave a great sigh. A significant weight was lifted off his chest.

“Well that was all rather cute.” His mother noted.

“I don’t trust him.” Mr. Cumberbatched said darkly as he lit a cigarette.

****

Tom had a rough night. He didn’t understand, Chris had been long gone, yet his body still… He laid on his stomach and read his bible. He would squish these feelings through whatever means necessary.

His lamp was running low on oil when he realized that even the bible could not save him in this instance. He snapped it shut and picked up his journal. There were rough sketches of Chris that he’d done when he could get Chris out of his hair for long enough. He added detail to one of the sketches before adding an entry about Chris. How they had met, what had happened. He hesitated to list the details that he hadn’t told his mother and Mr. Cumberbatch, but in the end he did. He found himself going into great detail, blushing as he wrote. He told himself it was for the best. Maybe if he wrote it out, he’d be able to expel it from his body.

Tom was wrong. The more he wrote, the more his heart pounded, the faster his blood flowed. He’d heard about this kind of indecent feeling. He’d felt it before, but not like this. He could suppress it before. His hands drifted down, his fingers tangled around his nightgown… but he bit his lip and wouldn’t allow it. No. Indulging in this kind of thing would make him sick, he knew that. It wasn’t good for your body… he knew that… but it still felt like his body needed it… He shook his head violently, shut his notebook and determined once again that he would not allow Chris to get to him like that.

****

Tom awoke, if you could really call it that, he never felt as though he’d really slept, when it was still fairly early. The sun had only just begun to rise. He’d had dreams that he tried not to dwell on. He seemed to have awoken in the same state that he’d gone to bed and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. He dressed in his usual clothes, it seemed to be enough to hide his physical distress.

“You look like shit.” Mr. Cumberbatch remarked as he drank his coffee from a tin can.

“I couldn’t really sleep…” Tom squirmed when Mr. Cumberbatched eyed him suspiciously.

When his mother awoke, they set off to search for the apes.

As the left camp, Tom wondered if Chris would come. Maybe if he didn’t find them there, he’d leave. Or maybe he’d wait… Tom wasn’t sure which made his gut hurt worse.

Tom spotted a plant he hadn’t seen and almost asked to stop so he could document it, but  he remembered that his journal was now heavy with last night’s writings. He kept his book shut and continued onward.

By the afternoon he was so excited by all the new sights that he’d put Chris from his mind. He was still tired, but his body was no longer distressed.

His mother and Mr. Cumberbatch finished their lunch before him and decided to scout out ahead to determine where to head next, leaving Tom to finish and pack up lunch.

Tom ate slowly and packed. Over half an hour passed and Tom was beginning to worry. There was no sign of his mother or Cumberbatch. Had they gotten lost? Or hurt? After another half hour he set off where they had headed. He tried to tack them based on the forest floor, but it did little good. After an hour of walking, he decided to turn back and head for camp. Maybe they’d gone back to the spot they’d stopped at for lunch and found that he had not been there.

Tom walked for much longer than they had that morning. He hated to believe it, but he was lost. He had no idea what direction camp was or how to get there. He sat on the forest floor in a heap and tried hard not to cry. He was terribly thirsty and his feet and back ached. He laid down, tears filled his eyes and he thought about sleeping. He was so tired.

“Thomas…” A voice that sounded like Chris’s said. But it couldn’t be. He stayed still on the ground with his eyes closed. He knew he must be dreaming.

“Thomas.” Chris said with some worry in his voice. He shook Tom.

Tom’s eyes snapped open. Chris really was here! He pushed himself up on his elbow.

“Chris!” There were still tears in his eyes, but now it was from relief.

Chris put a hand on his face and touched the corner of his eye, causing a tear to spill out.

Tom breathed heavily from his mouth. Chris’s touch had brought to the surface all that he thought he’d suppressed during the day.

Chris pulled Tom into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, “Thomas…”

Tom cried into his shoulder. He was so tired and distressed. What was he to do? Even though he was exhausted and in emotional shambles, his body was still reacting to Chris's. 

Chris put his hands on either side of Tom’s flushed face, brushed the tears away with his thumbs, brought his own face close and closed his eyes. He must have seen this gesture among the pictures Tom had shown him.

Tom knew it was wrong. He knew it was bad. He begged God for forgiveness for that which he was about to do. He leaned in and kissed Chris lightly. He'd never done it before, so there wasn’t much force to it. It was little more than a peck on the lips, but Chris responded to it.

Chris put one hand on the back of Tom’s head, burying his fingers among curls, and pressed their faces together. His tongue explored Tom’s mouth which opened slowly to meet it. He began to shake. His body was coming apart. If Chris touched him… if he didn’t touch him… Chris broke the kiss and laid Tom on the ground. He then pulled Tom's shirt out of his pants.

Tom wasn’t sure what he wanted. He needed Chris’s hands on his body as soon as possible… but he wasn’t entirely ready… He wasn’t sure what he wanted, or what his conscious could handle... or what his body could do without.

Chris began fiddling with the button of his trousers. Tom hadn’t noticed until Chris’s large hand was digging into his pants and fondling Tom’s shamefully flushed and hard member.

At first, Tom moaned, but the sound of it, the foreignness of it seemed to awaken him from some spell. He pushed himself up onto his hands.

“N-no.” He told Chris, who was still curiously working him with his hand. But “no” hadn’t been a word he’d taught Chris.

“Stop.” He panted. His neck was flushed and his arms were so weak he could barely hold himself up. He tried to push Chris away, but the lack of strength made his intentions unclear.

Chris pulled away for a moment and Tom gave a small, but relieved, whine. He closed his eyes to rest for just a second and when he opened them, Chris was stroking himself at the sight of Tom. He was hard, and larger than Tom had imagined. Tom laid back down. He felt dizzy.

Chris leaned over him and kissed his neck. Tom put a hand on his shoulder and tried to push him away, but the weak force did not even register to Chris who continued to pepper Tom’s face with kisses. With one hand, he balanced over Tom and with the other, he held them both and began to stroke. 

“Please,” Tom pleaded, but the tone of his voice, one that even he did not recognize, came out wanton. “No,” He shivered beneath Chris’s calloused and gentile hand as Chris stroked and trusted.

Chris stopped when Tom was sure he was about to lose himself. Tom swallowed the dry air and wanted to not want Chris, but he couldn't. 

Chris leaned in to kiss Tom's face and smell his hair. His hand wandered further into Tom's pants. Tom didn't understand, so he thought nothing of it, until Chris's fingers began to probe his backside. He did not understand the purpose until it became apparent. For some reason, Chris was trying to put his finger inside Tom. Tom's heart beat raggedly. He didn't like the idea, and he opened his mouth to say something but Chris had already roughly pushed a finger in. It was only to the first knuckle, but the feeling was painful.

Tom found the energy to shove Chris away. Tears filled his eyes at the stinging burn. "Stop! Please!" He pleaded. His protests were understood and Chris moved his hand and began stroking them again.

Tom couldn't understand what that was about. He wanted to reclaim enough energy to push him away now, but he couldn't manage it.

Tom thought about the health defects he may suffer but his mind kept drifting. He tried to resist, tried to put strength into his protests, but they came out as moans. He could feel Chris’s smile against his collarbone when Tom came. He was a sputtering shameful mess in Chris’s hands. Chris came shortly after before collapsing next to Tom. He pulled Tom into his chest and held him. Tom fell asleep almost instantly against that warm chest. Although he was still without his mother, he felt safe and confident that he could find them so long as Chris was with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to edit it again, I didn't have much time to pick it over but I wanted to get it out so sorry ;__;

Tom awoke on the forest floor with one of Chris’s arms draped over him. 

He was confused, but only for a moment. He wanted to believe that it had all been a dream, but there were too many signs that proved otherwise. 

Tom tried to wiggle out from under Chris, but that only caused him to awake.

Chris smiled and leaned in, probably to kiss him, but Tom bent his head down to avoid it. Chris instead smelled his hair. 

Tom rolled over and Chris wrapped both arms around him, pulling their bodies together tightly.

“NO!” Tom yelled, now with the authority he couldn’t muster the night before.

Chris was confused, but understood to release him. 

Tom stumbled up and frantically tucked in his shirt and buttoned his pants.

No one had to know. He could fix this. He could. 

Chris stood and stretched before leaning his head on Tom’s shoulder. Tom was going to shove him away, but the sound of gunshot made Chris flinch away. 

“Oh, thanks the heavens!” Tom followed the direction from which the sound had come. 

Chris followed and Tom didn’t mind. As much as he knew he shouldn't be around Chris, it really was safer with him there. Tom was not far from camp, as it turned out, but since he knew not which direction camp was in, it had done little good. 

His mother was overjoyed to see him. Mr. Cumberbatch even seemed relieved.

“It’s my fault, dear. Were on the trail of an ape and thought if we went back for you, we would lose it. Lucky for us, you had Chris to look after you.”

Tom said nothing on the matter of his “luck” but told his mother it was alright to have left him. 

****

After Tom bathed with water and a cloth and had eaten, the day was spent teaching Chris new words such as “no” and “stop.” It wasn’t hard, as Chris gave him ample opportunity to employ them. 

After the events of the previous day, Chris felt free to explore Tom’s body at length. Tom had to work very hard to avoid allowing him to do so in front of his mother, or their guard.

When he made himself very clear by looking angry and distraught, Chris understood. He stopped trying to touch Tom all together and looked very pained in doing so. 

“What did you do to him?” His mother asked when she came under the hanging where Tom was showing Chris pictures and making him repeat words.

“I just showed him that personal space is very important. It's not proper to manhandle your peers.” He said matter of factly. 

“But look at that sad face. He’s been alone all his life. He just wants a hug.”

Chris seemed to respond well to her mothering tone. She held out her arms to hug him. 

“Mummy, you’re only encouraging bad behavior.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” she said as she embraced Chris motheringly. 

Tom didn’t like that she was undermining his authority, but chris still knew to keep his hands off Tom, so that was all that mattered. 

****

Chris, now undistracted, seemed to be learning very quickly. Perhaps he had a knack for language. 

At sunset, he left again, looking rather said, although he did not try to hug TOm, Tom wanted him to. But he would never take the initiative.

That night, Tom wrote out all that had happened, with what limited vocabulary he knew on the matter, and tried to make it as scientific as possible. Despite this, his body hot hot at the memory. It ached in new places, where Chris had penetrated with his finger, for only a moment seemed to burn with an itch. 

Unlike before, he could not fight this desire. Not with prayer or logic. He knew that this would cause a mental defect. He had read the studies. He knew they were true, but he couldn’t help but trace himself with the fingers of one hand, while stroking himself with the other. Aware that he was going to lose his mind, or his soul, he cared, but couldn’t fight it any longer. He gasped devastatingly as he breached his own opening with a thing finger. The muscle was so tight, tighter than he would have imagined. He worked it, and slowly stretched himself to the knuckle. His finger brushed something and he knew instinctually to work it. He thought of Chris and his thick fingers and rough hands taking the place of his own and he came undone. 

The shame of it hit him as he pulled his finger from his winking and tightening body, but he couldn’t promise that this was the last time or that he was capable of stopping. 

****

The next morning Tom felt dreadful. Not only in his heart or mind, but his body ached.

“Are you alright, darling?” His mother asked.

Tom opened his mouth to reply and all that came was bile. 

She sent him back to bed with water. 

Tom refused to see Chris when he arrived. Tom was certain that his growingly lewder actions were what caused his physical distress. This was punishment.

A ship doctor came to examine him, and assured him it was a regular disease for the area. He would take a week at least to recover, but his survival was almost certain. 

Once every day, Chris peeked into his tent to see how his condition had come. Ofte, Tom was asleep and did not see him. The whole ordeal was awful for Tom. He realized in that time of isolation that he craved Chris’s touch more than ever. He wanted those strong arms to make him feel safe. He’d hoped that the sickness would serve its purpose of punishment, but Tom recovered before the lesson had been conveyed.

Although no longer sick, he was weaker. He exited the tent one evening to find Chris and his mother talking.

Chris’s language was imperfect, but it was understandable and coherent.

“Can I hold you? He asked as he opened his arms.

“Mom!” Tom Scowled. SHe’d clearly taught him the phrase.

Tom nodded and Chris happily and gently embraced Tom. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“No!” Tom snapped, pushing him away. It would be much harder to hide Chris’s feeling for him if he was now expressing them vocally. His mother appeared to have thought nothing of it. She’d failed to teach him any manners. 

****

When Chris had left, Mr. Cumberbatched emerged from his tent and made his feeling on the matter quite clear. 

“I don’t trust him. His behavior towards Thomas is uncivil. Now that he has recovered, we should leave. I agreed to accompany you until we found the apes and we have.”

“I haven’t gotten to see them!” Tom protested. His mother and Mr. Cumberbatch had gone out almost every day to observe them. 

“you are right in saying you have served your part, MR. Cumberbatch, but your opinion of Chris is irrelevant. Of course he is ignorant of our culture. That’s why we must stay with him. IT’s become quite clear that we are safe out here. If you would like to return to London without us, please feel free.” 

Mr. Cumberbatch looked uncertain. In the end he decided to stay with them. 

“When ARE we going home?” Tom asked

“I don’t know. I need to return to work eventually, and they’ll want to know of our discoveries… But I like it here. DOn’t you?”

Tom nodded, thinking mostly of Chris. Life in the Jungle wasn’t as good as it got, but not bad, either. 

****

Tom slept into the noon of the next morning. He awoke feeling he had slept of the last of his sickness. 

Tom could hear his mother laughing as he dressed. 

Tom exited the tent to find his mother trimming Chris’s hair. His beard had been shaven and he wore one of Mr. Cumberbatch’s suits. 

Tom wanted to sink back into this tent, but it was too late.

“Thomas!” Chris called with a smile.

“Morning.” Tom nodded.

“How are you?”

“Better. Uh, good.” He continued to nod. He couldn't believe what a shave and some different clothes could do to a person. Tom swallowed. He wanted to…

Tom drew in his notebook as his mother continued to trim. Chris’s eyes followed him everywhere.

“You could do with a haircut, too, Tom.”

Tom opened his mouth to agree, but Chris said, “I like it.” 

Tom’s mouth shut. His mom grinned from behind Chris and Tom flushed.

“I suppose you’re right.” She winked and Tom wanted to be dead.

It got worse in the evening. Tom emerged from his tent to find Chris and his mother dancing beautifully.

Tom’s mouth hung open. HE wanted…

“Tom darling, I've had enough for the moment, why don’t you and Chris…”  
Tom wanted to refuse, but Chris’s intimidating eyes drew him in.

Chris lead and Tom wanted to die, but he enjoyed it all the same. Chris enjoyed it, too. It seemed he could go on forever, but it began to grow late. His mother had gone to bed.

Chris changed out of Mr. Cumberbatch’s clothes and handed them to Tom. “I must leave.”

“Where do you go?”

“Home.”

“Where is that?”

Chris pointed.

“Do you live with the apes?”

“Near them. I live in a house, one my father built.”

“Oh! Do you remember them?”

“Only a little. I was small when they…”

“Died.”

Chris nodded, “I need to go.” He said again. He turned to leave but Tom stopped him. 

“Kiss me.” He said quietly. 

“What?” Chris was confused. Maybe because Tom had denied him, or maybe he was caught up in the words.

“I want you to kiss me.” Tom said, pointing to his lips. 

Chris seemed overjoyed, “It’s alright?”

“Yes. Only when I ask for it, though. You must not do it in front of the others. Alright?”

Chris nodded. IT was clear he didn’t understand, but he seemed too happy to care. He leaned in and kissed Tom sweetly. He held the back of Tom’s head with his large hand. 

Tom sent Chris away happily. 

****

Tom wrote in his journal that if they were to leave, he would ask Chris to join them, and if Chris wished to stay, he would stay. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. If he stayed and his mother and Mr. Cumberbatch returned, he would be able to have a relationship with Chris. If he returned home… it would be harder. He would have to hide it. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he’d rather stay with his mother if he could help it. 

Tom was going to ask Chris if he would be willing to leave to London, but he didn’t appear all day. Tom was clearly distressed. Had something happened to him? He asked Mr. Cumberbatch if he would be willing to go look for him, but Mr. Cumberbatch thought that to be a joke. “He’s handled himself this far. Maybe the work of learning is too much for him and he’s decided to stay in the jungle.” 

Later that day, a letter arrived informing Tom’s mother that she was to leave within a week to report her research. If the university liked it, they would be permitted to return to work further. Tom started to sweat as she read it to him. 

“I’m sorry, Tom.” She said.

“It’s alright… It’s not like we could stay forever…” 

“Would you like to ask Chris to come with us?”

Tom nodded, afraid that if he spoke he would cry. Where was Chris? Why hadn’t he arrived?

The next day there was no sign of him. They’d already begun to pack their belongings. Tom asked Mr. Cumberbatch once again to take him to look for Chris, but he refused again. 

“Just take me as far as the apes and I’ll look for his house alone, then.” 

Mr. Cumberbatch wasn’t having it. Tom didn’t understand. 

****

Another day passed and Tom determined that if Chris hadn’t arrived the next day, he would go to find him alone. Tom packed a small bag and discovered he could not find his journal. He assumed he’d left it among the outside equipment. It wasn’t unlike him to do. 

“I need to speak with you.” Mr. Cumberbatch said, just as Tom was getting ready to go to bed. His mother was already asleep. 

“Alright.” Tom nodded, unsure what Mr. Cumberbatch would want to talk to him about. 

“Come to my tent.” 

Tom felt nervous, but was unsure why. He had no reason to, but none the less, he felt as though he was walking into a trap. 

Mr. Cumberbatch tied the tend closed, “Bugs.” He mumbled. 

On Mr. Cumberbatch’s card table sat Tom’s journal. His heart dropped. 

“That’s mine.” Tom said with some anger in his voice.

“I know. How do you think I knew to buy you those pencils.” 

Tom couldn’t believe it. Mr. Cumberbatch had been stealing and returning his journal this whole time without his knowledge? If so, why choose now to reveal it… unless he was going to… 

“I know now…”

Tom froze. His eyes flitted to the door. He wasn’t sure if there was any use. 

“This kind of behavior…”

“I know…” Tom said quietly. He wasn’t ashamed… but he felt something. Having to explain his feelings to someone who he knew disapproved was going to be hard. 

“I always knew you were...a little slut.” Mr. Cumberbatch seemed to hiss while sucking in air, “I just assumed I would be able to divert your feelings towards  me .”

“What?” Tom said in disbelief.

“It’s a shame… I really wanted you. I tried so hard, reading your journal to see what you liked and then to try and fulfill your wishes. Staying on even though I’d much rather go home. But here’s the only place where we can…”

“I don’t want you!” Tom said hastily. 

“Keep your voice down. If you wake your mother, there will be consequences for you both.” 

Tom swallowed, “I don’t love you. I love-”

“Chris? Do you think I care about your LOVE now? Now that I know what awful things you’ve let a man do to you? Things that I should have done before he tainted you.”

Tom wanted to run, but he was too scared. He was shaking now, “Please….”

“No, Tom. You’ve brought this on yourself. I was going to give you time to fall for me gradually at your own pace. But now you’ve pushed me to force my hand.” He unbuttoned his pants. 

Tom closed his eyes and looked away. He pleaded. 

“You’re going to do as I say, Tom. It’s only as difficult as you make it…” 

Tom’s eyes were still pressed shut. Mr. Cumberbatch grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to his knees. Tom wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he could guess. 

“Suck it.”

“No.” 

Mr. Cumberbatch shook his head around by the hair, “I’m only going to ask once more, Tom. Suck it, or there will be  consequences.”

Tom began to cry silently. He didn’t want to but he was afraid of what Mr. Cumberbatch would do to him, or his mother. 

“Please.” He choked out in a sob, “Stop.”

He heard something rip. It was the tent. His eyes flew open to see Chris. How had he known to come? Where had he been?

Mr. Cumberbatch hastily threw Tom aside, letting his head hit a tent post as he ran for his gun. But Chris was on him before he was halfway there. Tom’s head was dizzy. He wasn’t sure what he saw, but by the sound of it, Chris was hitting Mr. Cumberbatch until he stopped moving. 

“Thomas, are you alright?” He leaned over Tom who could now see the blood on his hands.

“Yes. I just… hit my head.” He sat up and the room spun. Chris held his head steady, “I think I need to have a laydown and I’ll be alright…” 

“Did he hurt you?”

“He tired.” Tom smiled. It didn’t matter, Chris was here. He had saved him. 

“You should probably tie him up or something.” Tom said, nodding his head to Mr. Cumberbatch who began to stir. 

Chris nodded and laid Tom flat on his back. 

 

Tom explained everything to his mother, who held his head and examined it. 

“You don’t have a concussion. Thank God Chris showed up in time.”

“Where had you gone?” Tom asked, trying not to sound mad.

“I should have told you… But I went to get this flower.” Tom hadn’t noticed before, but Chris had a flower tucked into his loincloth. Tom had never seen one before, but it looked unspectacular. “It’s what my parents came for. I thought you might like it, since you’re like they were.” 

Tom’s mother took it. “Thank you, Chris. But tell us next time.”

Chris nodded. 

Tom’s mother screamed at Mr. Cumberbatch while kicking him. She said that if he ever came back she would kill him. She had Chris carry him to the boats and explained what had happened. Sickened, the men agreed to take him back to London where he would be arrested. They kept his things and his guns. 

****

Chris didn’t leave them at night anymore. He stayed, occasionally dressing up in Mr. Cumberbatch’s clothes and sleeping in his bed. They continued to teach him. At night they danced. Tom was almost certain that Chris was better than he was.

They explained that they were to leave home, possibly to never return again. Tom couldn’t breathe when they asked Chris if he would accompany them. 

Chris was quiet for a few seconds but he agreed, “would I live with you?” He asked Tom.

“Of course you would, darling.” His mother answered.

Chris put his hand on Tom’s cheek. Tom smiled at first but then blushed. His mother wasn’t supposed to suspect… but she simply smiled. 

****

When Tom was certain that his mother was sleeping he snuck to Chris’s tent. From the rip he hissed, “Chris.”

Chris awoke and mumbled, “Thomas?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Tom tiptoed into the tent, “Everything’s alright. I just wanted to…”

Chris sat up on one elbow and grinned. Tom grew dark red and thought about leaving. Chris pulled up his blanket and scooted over to Tom had room. 

“Thank you for saving me.” Tom said when their bodies were pressed against one another. He faced the floor where he had been forced on his knees before Mr. Cumberbatch. He was glad his eyes had been shut. 

Chris sighed, “I’m so glad… I’m so glad I came in time.” He put his arm around Tom and pulled him closer before resting his hand on Tom’s thigh. His breathing indicated he was about to drift asleep again, but Tom didn’t want that… He rubbed his backside innocently on Chris’s crotch, pretending to simply be scooting further into him. 

Chris snorted. He was awake.

“We won’t be able to… be quite like this back in London…” Tom admitted. 

Chris smelled his hair, “What do you mean?”

“This kind of behavior… between men…”

“Is it not good?”

“It’s not…”

“Why?”

“There are reasons but… I don’t care. We can be this way at home though.”

Tom could feel Chris’s smile on his neck, “Okay. As long as we can at home. Can I kiss you outside?”

“No.”

Chris sounded a little heartbroken, “Can I touch you?”

“Not excessively. Smelling isn’t really normal…” 

Chris gave a small cry.

Tom rolled over and touched Chris's face. “It’s okay… when we’re at home, you can do whatever you’d like.”

“W-whatever?” 

Tom grinned but Chris didn’t push it. Tom was getting impatient. Chris’s hand was still rested on his leg, “What are you wearing?” 

“It’s a nightgown… It’s normal for sleeping.” Tom realized Chris was still in one of Mr. Cumberbatch’s outfits and saw an opportunity. 

“Isn’t it uncomfortable to be dressed that way?”

“Yes, but I thought that it was how it was done.” Chris admitted. He couldn’t fathom the reasons for many of the things that Thomas and his mother did, but he tried his best to go along with them. It made as much sense to him to wear a tucked in shirt to bed as it did to resist touching people outside the home.

“No.” Tom shook his head and began unbuttoning his shirt for him. 

Chris’s breath got heavy, and when Tom began pressing kisses into his chest his heart thumped. 

“Thomas are you… sure?”

“Yes… ever since… I’ve been….” He didn’t know how to explain it. 

“I shouldn’t have done that to you… I didn’t know what you were saying… I thought you wanted it and I…”

“Oh…” Tom breathed, “I was saying no… and stop… but you couldn’t have known.”

Chris said nothing, it was clear he felt guilty. 

“You didn’t know the words, Chris! And I was so unclear. I didn’t want it then but I do now. Do you?”

“Yes.” 

Tom finished with the last shirt button and began working on Chris’s pants. Chris sat up to remove his shirt before leaning back onto the bed. He left Tom, who was clearly eager, to do the work. 

Tom pulled off Chris’s pants completely before straddling his legs. He wanted to ride Chris as soon as possible. He ached and burned but he knew some preparation was in order. 

Tom leaned over Chris, his head rested on that sturdy chest, picked up one of Chris’s heavy hands, and directed it to his leg. 

“Are you sure?” Chris asked, playing with the soft fabric of Tom’s nightgown. 

Tom nodded.

“I’ve already,” He gasped when Chris pressed a thick digit into him, “I’ve already done it myself…”

“Is it not normal to do so?” Chris asked.

“It’s not… I had no idea-” He moaned when Chris pressed another finger in and began to work that mysterious spot, “I didn’t know doing something like this could feel so good.” 

He felt Chris’s hardness between them and felt joy that Chris wanted him. 

After a while of working him open, Tom begged him to stop.

He shook as Chris removed his fingers. He placed himself over Chris, pulled his clothes out of the way, and sank down slowly. His mouth hung open. It kind of hurt, but it also felt desolatingly good. 

“Chris.” He gasped. 

Chris put a hand on Tom’s thigh and another on his hip to steady him. Tom waited a moment to adjust before slowly pulling himself off, and allowing himself to sink down onto, Chris. 

“Oh god, it’s so good.” 

“Why is this not permitted in London?” Chris asked with a grunt. 

“I don’t know.” Tom moaned, continuing to pump himself on Chris until his legs were too tired. 

“Chris, I don’t think I can…” His legs were twitching and shaking. 

Without dislodging, Chris rolled them over and began slowly thrusting. 

Tom’s hands flew, unsure where to grasp. One landed on the bed and the other on Chris’s arm. 

“Chris, I can’t-”

Chris stopped, “are you alright?”

Tom blinked, “Yes” he breathed, “Keep going.”

Tom took a ragged breath when Chris continued to drag himself in and out of Tom. 

“Touch me.” He managed to gasp.

Chris took him in hand and rubbed. The soft, yet tough and warm friction got to him. He spilled. His back arched off the bed before he collapsed back down. 

“It was alright then?” Chris said as he continued to thrust.

Tom smiled. Chris was funny. 

Chris continued to fondle him but it was not long before he came. He collapsed on Tom and smelled him. 

“You smell even better now.” He said sleepily. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then they go back to London and fuck some more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of writing another, less con and much shorter version but we'll see. There will also be at least one more chapter.  
> I don’t even ship hiddlesworth and I feel deeply ashamed.


End file.
